


Photographs

by TalathAmanya



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Original Team Arrow, Romance, dyla, olicity - Freeform, superhero escapades
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 03:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8952115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalathAmanya/pseuds/TalathAmanya
Summary: Various snapshots from Team Arrow. Mostly pre-season 4.





	1. Chapter One

This fic takes place sometime after 2x10 (Blast Radius).

The song is “Tourist” by Yuna 

I DO NOT OWN ARROW OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OR PLACES USED IN THIS STORY

* * *

 

_I guess I’ll hang around a little while, while you’re here_

_No, I don’t feel like being somewhere else_

_I guess I wouldn’t mind to fall in love a little bit_

_Ouch, I think I fell a little more_

_Hanging onto nothing_

_I wouldn’t change a thing_

_Stay where you are now_  

_I’m just a little bit love-ridden_

_I’m falling into you_

 

“It’s pretty late, Felicity. Go on home. We’re done for tonight.”

Oliver came down the foundry stairs, the old metal rattling under his feet as he pulled back his hood and unzipped his leather jacket. His own voice echoing back at him, he glanced around the curiously quiet room until his eyes lit on the still figure sitting in front of the computers.

“Felicity?”

Eyebrows knitting together in momentary concern he placed his bow back into its case and hung his quiver up next to it before crossing to the black swivel chair and its occupant. A light huff of amusement came out before he could stop it, but then it disappeared as his eyes softened. The sight of Felicity sound asleep, head resting on her arms, and slouched over the desk at a clearly awkward angle made something in his chest (absolutely not his heart) warm just a little. Her glasses had been removed at some point and lay discarded to the side next to a long-since-cold cup of coffee and her tablet. A small yellow sticky note addressed to Felicity was stuck to the dark computer above her, and Oliver read in Diggle’s handwriting that the man had already gone home and that he recommended that the IT girl not spend the whole night in that chair. Clearly she had fallen asleep before the ex-soldier had gone home but he had found no reason to wake her up and had just left the note instead. The woman shifted positions slightly below him and he glanced down once before stepping away to fully remove his jacket and drape it over another chair. Pausing in hesitation, he almost moved to shake her shoulder, but something stopped him (definitely not that warm feeling in his chest again) and he pulled his hand back. He quietly moved towards their newest addition to the foundry– a shower, one installed at Felicity’s insistence. (“You guys come back here all sweaty and hot, and it’s frankly _quite_ disgusting. We’re getting a shower.”) 

He emerged twenty minutes later from his pleasantly long shower and rubbed his hair with a small towel, shivering slightly in the chill of the room. Grabbing his grey hoodie he zipped it up over the thin white t-shirt he had on and tossed his dirty leather outfit to the side, unwilling to deal with it just yet. Felicity was still sound asleep on the chair, but she had shifted positions since he last saw her. Small panda flats had been carelessly shucked off and her knees were tucked up to her chest as she somehow managed to curl her entire body onto the chair without falling off. A small smile lit his face again, and before he realized it he was taking her jacket off the back of the chair and draping it over her. Involuntarily he found his hand tracing down the curve of her shoulder and he abruptly drew back his hand as though burned. Felicity shifted slightly under his touch and licking his lips, Oliver moved away from her, lest he be tempted to do something more inappropriate. She was his secretary, for goodness’ sake–touching her without permission, especially when she was _asleep_ , was completely out of order. Even as friends. But recently his definition of _friend_ seemed to have changed when it came to the blonde in front of him. 

_You’re my partner._

Yes, that’s it. Partner. Just a partner. Nothing more. 

 


	2. Chapter Two

The song is “Fallin’ For You” by Colbie Caillat

I DO NOT OWN ARROW OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OR PLACES USED IN THIS STORY

* * *

_I don’t know but I think I may be_

_Falling for you so quickly_

_Maybe I should keep this to myself_

_Waiting ’til I know you better_

_I’ve been spending all my time_

_Just thinking about you_

_I don’t know what to do_

_I think I’m falling for you_

_I’ve been waiting all my life and now I found you_

_I don’t know what to do_

_I think I’m falling for you_

 

“I _hate_ life.”

Felicity could not help the vehement statement slipping out, and she slapped the metal table in frustration. Digg gave her a passing look but didn’t comment as he continued to clean his gun with a rag. Tapping her neatly painted fingernails on the desk, she impatiently watched the little blue bar on her computer continue to glow with infuriating serenity.

_Downloading…28%Remaining time: 2 hours 43 minutes_

“What did I do to deserve slow wi-fi? I have been a good person most of my life. I even made my bed this morning.” Throwing her hands up dramatically, Felicity knew she was overreacting, but, to be fair, she was having a terrible day. Thankfully Digg seemed to sense her disgruntlement and had kept his distance all day. Oliver, on the other hand, was a different story altogether. He had been unreasonably preoccupied, hardly giving Felicity a look all day, which, though the least willing to admit it to herself, bothered her more than it should have. Suffice to say Oliver didn’t seem to pick up on her irritation and had most _audaciously_ asked for a cup of coffee at one point, clearly forgetting their original deal. Felicity lost it right there and, slamming one hand down onto his desk and very nearly slapping him with the other, she grit her teeth and told him that if he so much as asked for a cup of coffee again, she would tell the whole of Starling City just exactly who it was that stalked their streets at night. He had given her a confused look at her sudden burst of anger, and when she flounced out of his office he huffed and muttered something about “monthly cycles” and proceeded to very nearly lose his head at the hands of a flying stapler. Needless to say, he avoided her after that. It would have been satisfying if she wasn’t having such a terrible time. 

A beep from the computer pulled her out of her thoughts and focusing on the screen, she groaned in renewed frustration at the new message that blinked at her.

_Internet connection unstable. Download failed. Try again?_

Forcefully hitting the mouse she watched as the little blue bar started inching it’s way up again.

_Remaining time: 3 hours 25 minutes_

“Curse you, pathetic wi-fi.”

Shoving herself away from the desk she stalked out of the room, past a wisely quiet Digg and clanged her way up the foundry stairs and into Verdant. Slamming the door shut behind her, she moved onto the empty dance floor and stood there, silently fuming. After several minutes of letting the hot anger course through her, she clenched her hands and resisted the urge to kick something. She didn’t usually get this angry, but once in a while it felt good to let go. Huffing out a large sigh, Felicity listened to it echo slightly around the room and began to feel her anger simmer down. Her hands almost itched with the need for movement and activity, and spotting a guitar off to the side of the room she moved towards it. As the intricate pattern of the rosette around the sound hole became clearer, she stooped to inspect the instrument. It was a little scuffed up–lots of scratches and chips and strings that could use changing–but definitely well-loved. Picking it up, she settled it comfortably in her lap, relishing the feel of holding an instrument she probably hadn’t touched since her last year of college. Strumming it, she cringed at the terrible sound. Fiddling around with the pegs she attempted to tune it but only succeeded in making it worse. Eyes lighting on the guitar case several feet away, Felicity gently set the guitar down and jumped up to rummage through the case, surprised to find an old-fashioned pitch-pipe along with a new pack of steel strings and a small pair of pliers. Grabbing all three she moved back to the guitar and began the tedious task of changing the strings. 

That’s how Oliver found her. Bent over an old guitar–the one that Roy had fished out of the dumpster–with small plastic bolts spread about on the floor around her as she changed strings with an old pair of pliers.

“Felicity?” 

She jumped in surprise at his voice, whipping her head up and placing a hand to her chest.

“Oliver! I didn’t hear you come in.”

He smiled and leaned against the wall as she turned back to the guitar in her lap.

“I didn’t know you knew how to play the guitar.”

She let out a small ‘hmm’ in response but didn’t look up as she struggled to twist the E-6th string around the head and hold it in place. After watching her for a few more seconds, Oliver came forward and and pressed down on the bridge pin so she could use both hands on the string. She paused and gave him a glance over her glasses before accepting the help and moving to twist the string on the machine head. 

“Is there something you want, Oliver? Somehow I get the feeling you didn't just come here to socialize.” 

He smiled wryly at her comment. Clearing his throat he forced himself to start speaking. 

“I, um, well I came here to apologize for my comment this morning. That was not kind of me, I’m sorry.” He awkwardly kept his gaze fixed on where her fingers had stopped moving. He could almost feel the warmth of her smile resting on his bowed head. 

“That’s okay, Oliver. I wasn’t in the best of moods today either. I’m sorry. Oh! I threw the stapler at you didn’t I? Did I hit you? I really didn’t mean to, I mean, well I _did_ , but not really–“ 

Oliver shook his head slightly, laughing under his breath. “Don’t worry, you didn't hit me. Lucky for me you haven’t got the greatest aim.” At the look he received for that comment he backed up a few steps. Felicity smiled ominously.

“Well. I’ll work on it then. You better watch out, Oliver Queen.”

He laughed again, and she turned back to the guitar, tightening the last string. After carefully tuning the instrument, Felicity strummed it absentmindedly. She could feel Oliver’s gaze resting on her and began to feel a slow blush start climbing up her neck. Abruptly laying the guitar down, she scrambled to her feet, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles out of her skirt and stammering.

“Well, I, uh, maybe Digg’s fixed the wifi by now so I really ought to go check on the download, I mean, not that I don’t want to spend time with you but– oh dear, that’s not my guitar and I used it without permission, I, uh– gotta go.” Blushing even redder, she resolutely ignored the small smile on Oliver’s face– the one that gave her butterflies in her stomach. Her heels click-clacked across the floor as she rushed to the basement door and scrambled to open it. Punching in the code several times when it wouldn’t accept it, she jumped as Oliver’s voice came over her shoulder. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, we changed the code for safety reasons.”

He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and moved her to the side so he could punch in the numbers, and Felicity had to try very hard to remember the four digit password and not the phantom warmth of Oliver’s hands on her shoulders.

 


	3. Chapter Three

The song is “How Long Will I Love You?” by Ellie Goulding

I DO NOT OWN ARROW OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OR PLACES USED IN THIS STORY

* * *

_How long will I love you?_

_As long as stars are above you, and longer, if I can_

_How long will I need you?_

_As long as the seasons need to follow their plan_

_How long will I be with you?_

_As long as the sea is bound to wash upon the sand_

_How long will I give to you?_

_As long as I live through you, however long you say_

_How long will I love you?_

_As long as stars are above you_

_And longer, if I may_

 

“Home, James.” 

Oliver closed the limousine door and settled into his seat and after speaking to the substitute driver, he turned his head to look out the window and watch the raindrops race down the glass. Digg was taking the day off at Oliver’s insistence; their nighttime activities had been going on nonstop recently with nary a time to take a breath, so he had ordered the man to get some rest, along with Felicity. He had left the IT girl up in the office almost twenty minutes ago and after getting roped into several boring conversations by several boring people on his way down and out of the QC building, he had finally reached his car. 

The incessant sound of car horns demanded his attention and his gaze trailed up the long line of unmoving vehicles trapped on the road. Not for the first time, Oliver wondered why so many people were out on such a miserable day. The torrential downpour outside rattled the windows and pelted the road in big fat raindrops as people hurried to and fro on the sidewalks, crouched under umbrellas in futile attempts to keep dry. The blaring of horns seemed to fade into the background and Oliver absently watched all the people walking down the street, until one figure caught his eye. Although she was thoroughly soaked and looked nothing like her usual prim self, the bright pink coat and blonde hair of Felicity Smoak would have caught Oliver’s attention anywhere. Forehead creased, he watched as she trudged along the wet sidewalk, hands in pockets, and head down against the wind. She accidentally bumped into somebody, very nearly sending herself sprawling and she apologized with large hand motions and a resigned facial expression. Oliver's lips twitched into an almost-smile as he spoke to his driver.

“Hey, uh, hold up a sec.” 

James gave Oliver a wry smile in the rearview mirror. “We’re not going anywhere in this traffic jam, Mr. Queen. I don't think I have any other choice.”

Letting out a small laugh, Oliver grabbed his coat and opening the limo door, stepped out into the downpour. Maneuvering around cars and jumping over bumpers, Oliver quickly made his way over to where Felicity was just finishing her apologies to the man she had bumped into. As the two went their separate ways he rushed to catch up with her, his voice lost in the passing people and blaring horns as he called her name. 

“Felicity! Hey, Felicity!”

Completely oblivious to his calls, she swiftly walked on. Oliver saw the impending disaster as her heel caught in a crack and she tumbled forward, arms flaying. Reaching her just in time, he grabbed her around the waist and she squawked in surprise. Twisting around in Oliver’s arms, Felicity almost slapped him on the cheek, eyes wide with fear, surprise and then recognition as he caught her flying hand. 

“Oliver!” As she said his name she seemed to finally comprehend who he was and the fact that she was _in his arms_  and blushed furiously as she squirmed out of his hold. 

“Hey, you okay?” Oliver leaned down to pick up her purse that she had dropped and handing it to her swept a glance over her disheveled appearance. Her hair that had been meticulously curled that morning now hung in straight wet strands and her coat had mud spatters on the pink fabric, matching the back of her bare calves. He distantly wondered how she could see through her glasses; her eyes were barely visible through the water droplets that covered the lenses. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, um, Oliver,” Repeating his name one more time, she finally seemed to gather her wits. “What are you doing here?” Taking her purse from him, she awkwardly squeezed out her hair once, not seeming to notice that it resumed dripping down her coat several seconds later. Oliver gave her an easy smile and taking her by the elbow, moved her to the edge of the sidewalk and out of the way of passing people. 

“Oh, just thought I’d let you know there’s a warm, dry limo several feet away ready to take you home and out of the rain as fast as you’d like.” She gave him a skeptical look. 

“Mmm hmm. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but traffic is not at its best right now. Could take hours to get home in a car at this rate, so thank you for the offer, but I’ll walk home.” She gave him a smile and almost resumed walking but was stopped by Oliver’s hand on her elbow again. 

“Hey, hold on, I’ll walk with you.” 

“Oh, um, Oliver! That’s not really necessary… well, okay.” Felicity watched as Oliver jogged back to the limo and opening the door, spoke to his driver and then grabbed something from the backseat. Maneuvering around the cars he came back, this time with a black umbrella in hand. There was a momentary awkward silence as he held the umbrella over her head and they started walking. 

“Thank you, Oliver.” She cast a tentative glance towards his face and meeting his eyes briefly, brought her gaze back towards the pavement. “Nobody’s done this for me before, it’s nice. I mean–“ 

“It’s my pleasure, Felicity.” He cut her off, and she was almost glad– it saved her from blurting out some potentially embarrassing comment. Silence reigned once more, but it ceased to be an awkward silence. It was nice. Oliver’s solid presence next to her gave Felicity more warmth inside than it should have, and she tried not to dwell on the fact that this was the closest she had been to him in a long time. 

The rain grew stronger and without realizing it Felicity found herself shifting farther under the umbrella and nearer to Oliver to stay out of the downpour. Their arms brushed several times before he stuck out his elbow for her to place her hand in. After a moment of hesitancy, Felicity slid her hand onto his arm and he tucked it in a little, bringing her closer to his side. She quelled the little butterflies in her stomach, unsure of, but at the same time completely aware of why she was getting them. She'd never experienced it before, but the rough feel of his wool coat brushing against her side made her stomach flip, and the warm feeling in her chest felt like something suspiciously akin to–

_Love?_  

_No_ , she firmly told herself. _We're just partners_. 


	4. Chapter Four

The song is “King and Lionheart” by Of Monsters and Men

I DO NOT OWN ARROW OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OR PLACES USED IN THIS STORY

* * *

_Howling ghosts they reappear_

_In mountains that are stacked with fear_

_But you’re a king and I’m a lionheart_

_And in the sea that’s painted black_

_Creatures lurk below the deck_

_But you’re a king and I’m a lionheart_

_And as the world comes to an end_

_I’ll be here to hold your hand_

_‘Cause you’re my king and I’m your lionheart_

 

_CLANG CLANK CLANG CLANK_

Felicity tried her best to concentrate on the inordinately long report on Drake Rickerman– their latest criminal mastermind– but Oliver was on the salmon ladder. And it was incredibly distracting.

“Oliver.”

_CLANG CLANK CLANG CLANK_

“ _Oliver_.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose she spun the chair and got up to walk towards the training area of the foundry, intent upon getting her work done. She paused to look up at the not entirely unattractive display of Oliver Queen on the salmon ladder–something she would normally be content to watch forever. She found herself vaguely enjoying the sight of the man’s muscles working away, no shirt to hinder the view. Her forehead creased at that particular thought. 

_For shame, Felicity Smoak. For shame._

A loud yell broke her out of her thoughts just in time to see Oliver fall seven feet to the hard training mat with a resounding thud and moan.

“Oliver!”

Felicity rushed forward the last few steps to his side and gripped his shoulder from where he lay groaning on his back. His eyes were screwed up in pain and sweat from his workout glistened on his forehead.

“Oliver! What’s wrong? What happened? Did you have a heart attack? Do you need an ambulance?“

“Felicity,” He panted. “It’s okay… I think I just pulled a muscle. I don’t need an ambulance.” A semblance of a smile seemed to linger around the corners of his mouth, but Felicity didn’t dwell on it. She flapped her hands uselessly. 

_I have absolutely no idea what to do._

“Okay, okay. Oliver, what do you need? Should I call Digg?” He attempted to move and winced in pain; Felicity unconsciously mirrored the expression.

“Okay, uh, can you get me some ibuprofen? It’s in the, you know, the drawer.” His uncharacteristically vague explanation had Felicity smiling discreetly as she quickly moved to the medicine cabinet and grabbed the medication. Oliver’s voice rang in the silence of the room. 

“Some acetaminophen too.” 

Felicity came back with the pills and after lots of grunts and groans they managed to wrestle Oliver into her computer chair. Depositing the medication in one of his hands, she grabbed a water bottle, uncapped it, and placed it in the other.

“Take it.” 

She watched him dry swallow all the pills and then, seemingly as an afterthought, take a long gulp of the water. Taking the bottle back from him she placed it on her desk and turned to get a closer look at him. He sighed and dropped his head to rest it against the back of the chair. There were still tight lines of pain around his closed eyes and Felicity felt an insatiable urge to soothe them. Clenching her hands into fists she quickly squished that thought into the back of her mind and decided to think about it later. Skirting around Oliver, she walked back to the training area and grabbed his grey hoodie that had been discarded on the floor, and after fetching an icepack, quickly returned to his side. Smirking slightly, she balled the ice up in the hoodie and threw it at his bare chest. His eyes shot open and regarded the hoodie and ice before his gaze rose to meet Felicity’s. He quirked his eyebrow at her and she quelled the smile that tugged at her lips. His right eyebrow arched–exactly the way she’d loved from the very first moment she saw him–and laughter bubbled out unbidden from her mouth. 

“The great Oliver Queen has met his challenge! In a _salmon ladder_. Whatever shall he do?” Lowering her voice in mock imitation of a news reporter, she was glad to see a smirk ghost across Oliver’s face. 

Mission accomplished. 

He huffed out a scornful laugh and leaned forward to put his hoodie on, and Felicity came forward to help him. Her knuckles brushed against his shoulder as he pulled it on, and the warmth beneath her hand was unexpected, but not entirely unwanted. Her fingers lingered on his shoulder, and she enjoyed the heat of his skin through the hoodie fabric for a second before playfully nudging the back of his head.

“Hey, you’re getting my chair sweaty.” 

He cast her another look before clenching his jaw and pushing himself up, stiffening his back but apparently with less pain than before. She grabbed his elbow and eased him towards the other chair in the room, giving him a sweet smile and patting his shoulder sympathetically. Moving back to her computers she tossed him the water bottle and sat down in her chair, twirling to face her now dark screens. 

“Right. Where was I?” 

Silence reigned as she started typing again, and then was broken several minutes later. 

“Thank you, Felicity.” 

She smiled and didn’t answer, but the butterflies in her stomach began fluttering again. 


	5. Chapter Five

This fic takes place somewhere between 3x01 (The Calm) and 3x09 (The Climb).

The song is “Holding Out For A Hero” by Ella Mae Bowen (Originally by Bonnie Tyler)

I DO NOT OWN ARROW OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OR PLACES USED IN THIS STORY

* * *

_I need a hero_

_I’m holding out for a hero ’til the end of the night_

_He’s gotta be strong, he’s gotta be fast_

_And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight_

_I need a hero_

_I’m holding out for a hero ’til the morning light_

_He’s gotta be sure, he’s gotta be soon_

_And he’s gotta be larger than life_

_I’ll meet a hero_

_And then we’ll dance ’til the morning light_

_Dreaming, he’ll lead me_

_Held tight,_

_Tonight’s the night_

 

“Come on, Felicity, it’s not _that_ high.” Roy playfully nudged the woman in the ribs as she cautiously peered over the rocky ledge and swallowed nervously.  


“I don’t know, Roy…” For once Felicity seemed to speak less than twenty words in one sentence– that alone should have set off alarm bells. Digg and Oliver were twenty feet below them, Oliver collecting wood for their campfire for that night, and Digg wrestling with his half-constructed tent. Laughter drifted up to Felicity’s ears, and momentarily glancing towards the two older men she allowed herself a satisfied smile. This whole ‘Team Arrow Camping Trip’ had been her own bright idea to help Oliver relax and to distract Digg while Lyla was gone on a secret mission for A.R.G.U.S.; and, although the man would never own up to it, her absence had him all tied up in knots. Roy came along for the fun, or so he claimed, but Felicity had overheard the conversation between Thea and him about her extended shopping trip and Spice Girls concert, and the spare ticket. Of course she felt the need to make sure none of the boys got killed, and so, packing up all the survival necessities, she scoured the internet for a private place for them to camp and reserved a flight for four. 

Canada never suspected a thing.

“Hey, come on. I’ll jump off first. If you promise to follow. Deal?” Roy’s voice broke her out of her thoughts and she turned to the unpleasant task in front of her. Gauging the distance from the rocky ledge she stood on to the rippling dark blue water of the lake fifteen feet beneath her, she weighed her chances of death. Her glasses lay on her towel on the beach way below and she wished she had them on so she could appreciate the gorgeous view in front of her. She squinted up and watched the wispy clouds float across the massive blue expanse of sky above her, the sun shining strong and bright as the day neared its end. 

“ _Felicity_ , quit stalling.” Roy nudged her again, and she sighed. 

“Alright, alright. I promise to jump. But you have to go first.” 

“Sure, so long as you jump too.”   


She gave him a flat look that conveyed all of her uneasiness and then moving back a few steps, watched as he took a running leap off the ledge, whooping boyishly as he plummeted toward the water and landed with a colossal splash. Felicity smiled again, happy to see Roy so… relaxed. He was always so tightly wound, and this was good for him. It was doing _all_ the guys a world of good. And seeing her boys happy made her happy.   


Her boys.  


When had she started calling them _hers_?

“Your turn!” Roy’s voice behind her made her jump and she whirled around to look at his much-too-happy face, water droplets dripping from his hair. Rolling her eyes, she strode to the edge and peered down again, sighing.

“Well, see you on the other side,” she muttered. Stepping back, she swallowed once and then launched herself off the ledge. As the water rushed up to meet her, she realized that she was screaming but it was cut short as she was plunged underwater, bubbles exploding around her. She raised her head above the water, gasping and laughing at the same time. Pulling hair out of her face she began swimming back to the beach where Oliver and Digg now stood watching, their attention probably drawn by her scream. Roy shouted from far above her as he jumped off the ledge again, skillfully executing a can-opener and creating a massive shower of water that sparkled silver in the oncoming dusk. Wringing out her hair, Felicity marched up the beach towards her towel and a grinning Digg. Oliver seemed to have disappeared somewhere, but several seconds later said vigilante emerged from his tent, dark blue t-shirt and khaki shorts replaced by black swim trunks. A small smile danced around his mouth, and Felicity couldn’t help but grin back at Digg as she took her towel from his outstretched hand. An idea occurred to the woman, and it was out of her mouth before she’d hardly finished thinking it.

“Suicide*, Oliver. Do a suicide.” He quirked his eyebrow at her and she smiled sweetly. She kept her eyes on his face, not his scar and tattoo-covered chest, and swallowed convulsively. Cocking his head slightly, Oliver narrowed his eyes at her for a second before turning to jog towards the incline leading to the rocky ledge. Felicity tugged her striped towel closer around her shoulders as Digg spoke up behind her. 

“You okay?”  


She cleared her throat and dragged her eyes away from Oliver’s bare back, scowling when she saw the knowing smirk on Digg’s face. She waggled a warning finger at him.  


“Shut up. I was  _not._ I was just– oh, not a word, Mr. Diggle. Not a word.”   


Looking up, Felicity squinted in the sunlight and watched as Oliver and Roy conversed on the ledge, deep laughter drifting down towards her. They finished their conversation and Roy took a running start to cannonball off into the air. An impressive splash erupted from the water, and when his head bobbed into sight again Felicity yelled out a generous ‘six.’ She turned her attention back to Oliver as he strode forward to look down once before readying himself and launching off of the ledge. She watched in trepidation as he came dangerously close to bellyflopping before tucking his limbs into his chest in the nick of time, leaving a concussive splash in his wake as he plunged deep into the water. His head came to the surface several feet away and he immediately started swimming back towards the shore, playfully thrusting Roy’s head back underwater as he passed the younger man. Splashes erupted around them and Felicity chuckled along with Digg at the other men’s antics.   


After a moment or two of watching Oliver and Roy, Felicity shucked off her towel and started up towards the rocky ledge. “You gonna join us, Digg?” she asked.

Digg shook his head. “No, I think I’ll stay nice and dry, thank you. No drownings, please.” He smirked, and she stuck her tongue out at him when he turned away. 

When she reached the top of the rock, she glanced down at the two men still swimming below her and felt something in her heart twist. She wished Oliver was always this happy. The poor man deserved something more than the life he led. Being a vigilante isn’t all it’s made out to be.   


“Hey, come on Felicity!” Roy’s yell from the water drew her attention down again, and she squinted at the blurry heads bobbing in the gentle waves. Giving a dismissive half-wave, she turned back to look at the horizon, watching as the sky slowly turned a lovely shade of pinkish purple and the clouds glowed in the waning sunlight. She stood gazing at the sky for several minutes and hardly noticed as Roy came quietly up behind her. She squeaked in surprise when he wrapped his arms around her torso and grinned.   


“Let’s go!”   


Before she realized what was happening she was flying through the air, Roy’s hands securely wrapped around her and screaming at the top of her lungs. They landed in the water and sank quickly. Her screams muted into silence, Felicity struggled back to the surface, and after viciously sweeping wet strands of hair out of her face she swam up to Roy and dunked his stupid grinning face beneath the water with surprising strength. When he came back up sputtering he had moved several feet away and was still backing out of her reach. Oliver’s deep laugh vaguely registered in the back of her mind but Felicity ignored it and brought her face within several inches of Roy’s to poke a hard finger against his chest.  


“You just made a huge mistake, _Harper_.”   


He smiled weakly and Felicity didn’t stay to see anymore. Turning around she swam farther out into the deeper water to put some distance between herself and Oliver (who was still chuckling) and Roy. Huffing and treading water she moved out until she was beyond hearing distance of the beach and, ducking underwater once, smoothed back her hair and then wiped the water out of her eyes, wishing again that she had her glasses. The water was still and calm, and she absently watched as ripples radiated out from her moving form, growing smaller and smaller until they disappeared altogether. A faint twinge in her left calf and knee area drew her attention for a second before it was forgotten the next when Oliver’s voice drifted across the water towards her.   


“Felicity, come on back in. Digg’s getting dinner ready.” Turning her head she waved to show she heard and then yelled back.

“Okay, give me a couple more minutes!” Bringing her gaze back around to the sun now sinking beneath the horizon she sighed in contentment. The twinge in her leg grew stronger for a moment before it disappeared again, and she absently rubbed the sore area. _Must’ve pulled it a little when Roy jumped off with me._

She scowled to herself at that thought and then turned around to swim back. Keeping her head above water she hummed to herself and started back towards shore, only to gasp as the pain in her leg sharpened abruptly. Wincing as pain lanced through her leg, she kept swimming, but when she realized she wasn’t moving very fast and the ache was only growing stronger, she felt a spark of panic ignite in her stomach. Before she realized it, she was calling his name.

“Oliver!” 

His head whipped around in her direction, and even though she couldn’t see it she could imagine the sight of his forehead crinkling in concern at her call. The endearing sight was seared onto her mind, and she couldn’t help but feel a warmth in her chest knowing that his concern was directed towards her. Her leg throbbed and burned, and the panic increasingly grew; someone was calling something, and she realized it was her, repeatedly calling Oliver’s name. Floundering in the water, Felicity frantically tried to swim towards the beach but found it was becoming harder and harder as her leg took on an almost numb, useless feeling. Her arms worked furiously to keep her above water and she could already feel them starting to ache. Water lapped against her chin.

“Felicity, hold on! Don’t panic. Just try to tread water.”

“Oliver! Help!” She fixated her gaze on Oliver’s rapidly nearing form and tried to do as he asked. She could see two blurs on the beach. _Digg and Roy._  She could see their concerned faces in her mind too. 

Oliver came within several feet of her and then stopped. Felicity turned panic-filled eyes towards him, meeting his calm gaze. 

“Felicity, you need to stop panicking, or I can’t help you. Okay? Now, just hold onto my hands.” He reached out and she latched on to his forearms. “Good. Now, take a deep breath. Okay, now tell me what’s wrong.” Felicity breathed a shaky breath and between Oliver’s calm voice and steady hands she felt her panic begin to abate. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt like it would burst through her ribs at any second. 

“M-my leg. It cramped. Left calf.” She shakily breathed out her answer and closed her eyes, concentrating on Oliver’s comforting presence. As she slowly calmed her breathing she realized that they were moving, and that her left arm was draped across Oliver’s shoulders. Her leg still throbbed and ached like nothing she had ever experienced, but before she knew it they were nearing the beach. As soon as the water was shallow enough to stand in, Oliver grasped her about the waist and supported her weight as they walked up towards where Digg and Roy stood. As their concerned faces came into focus she offered them a weak smile, all of a sudden feeling a rush of blood rise to her face in embarrassment. The throbbing pain in her leg came nowhere near to the heat that now flushed her cheeks. Digg carefully draped her towel around her and she tugged it close, plucking her glasses from Roy’s hand at the same time.   


“Are you okay?” Oliver’s quiet question voiced each man’s thoughts and Felicity smiled sheepishly as she reflexively pushed her glasses up her nose.   


“Yeah, I, um, a cramp. Stupid me, it’s not like I was dying or anything, people get cramps all the time, I mean, that was _really_ stupid–“ Oliver’s hand came up to rest on her shoulder and he gently squeezed once.  


“Hey, it wasn’t stupid.” He smiled softly, and she tried her best to return the gesture. Digg and Roy cast glances at each other before moving back towards the tents and the half-finished dinner waiting there. 

* * *

Felicity lay back on her blanket, and propping her head against the log behind her, listened to the popping of the campfire and gazed at the star-littered sky. One hand was draped over her stomach while the other gently massaged her left calf, her fingers chasing away the last of the soreness left over from the cramp. 

“Hey. How’s your leg?” 

Oliver’s voice from behind caught her off guard and she jumped in surprise. Felicity craned her neck to watch him as he circled around the log and moved to sit down on the other side of the fire. 

“It’s better.” She followed his movements with her eyes as he lowered himself to the ground and stirred the coals with a stick. “Believe it or not, I have had worse camping trips.” She smiled at him. His eyes briefly flicked down the length of her body, and if she didn’t know better she would’ve thought he was checking for injuries. 

“I’m fine, Oliver. Really.” His eyes quickly flashed back up, the _little-boy-caught-stealing-from-the-cookie-jar_ expression flitting across his face before disappearing. Felicity’s smile widened minutely and she let a little laugh pass her lips. “Actually the whole thing seems rather silly in retrospect.” Oliver’s head tilted to the side slightly and a small smile crept onto his face. Felicity couldn’t help but think it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

 

_*Can-opener– You tuck one knee to your chest with both arms around it and land at an angle to create a wide splash. If you don’t get the correct angle you either get a incredibly pathetic splash or land painfully on your back._

_*Suicide– It’s like a cannonball, except you spread-eagle until you almost hit the water and then you tuck into a cannonball. If you don’t tuck in in time it’s_ very _painful, like a bellyflop, but much worse because you’re usually doing it from a greater height. Hence the name ‘suicide’._


	6. Chapter Six

The song is “Dust to Dust” by The Civil Wars

I DO NOT OWN ARROW OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OR PLACES USED IN THIS STORY

* * *

_Oh, you’re acting your thin disguise_

_All your perfectly delivered lines_

_They don’t fool me_

_You’ve been lonely too long_

_Let me in the wall you’ve built around_

_We can light a match and burn it down_

_Let me hold your hand_

_And dance ‘round and ‘round the flames_

_In front of us, dust to dust_

_You’ve held your head up_

_You’ve fought the fight_

_You bear the scars_

_You’ve done your time_

_Listen to me_

_You’ve been lonely too long_

 

Felicity first felt the hard table beneath her, and then the scratch of the wool blanket they kept in the foundry on her bare arms closely followed. Her forehead creased, and she shifted her head on the lumpy ball that supported her neck, trying to remember. 

Oh, yeah. 

Bullet.

Blood. 

 _Lovely_.

An involuntary groan escaped her lips as she unconsciously stretched her leg and dull fire lanced through her right upper thigh, chain-reacting to her semi-numb right side just above her hip bone. 

Right. Bullet wounds. _Two_.

"Felicity? Hey, you're okay, just relax." A warm hand pressed down gently on her shoulder and she found herself leaning in to the touch, as if to assuage the pain that throbbed throughout her body. Her eyes fluttered open for the first time but she immediately snapped them shut again against the bright medical lamp.

"Ugh. Turn the light off."

Some blessed being obligingly obeyed, and only after she heard the click of the light going off did she open her eyes again. Everything was a little blurry at first, but after blinking several times Oliver's face came into view above her. _Uh oh_.

"You're wearing your angry face."

He huffed out a small laugh, but it was fake, and grated against Felicity's ears. She struggled to sit up despite the medication-dulled pain that pulsed in her side, because she hated the feel of just lying there– just like she'd all too often seen Oliver, and on occasion, Digg or Roy. Always silent. Always unresponsive. And always too close to being _dead_. She shivered. 

Oliver seemed to sense her unease and he slid his arms beneath her knees and behind her back, gently lifting her off the table and into his arms, before carrying her over to the old leather couch in the corner. Felicity bit her lip and drew blood. Every step Oliver took, as careful as he was, sent waves of pain all down the right side of her body but she was determined not to make a sound–more for her own medicated ego's sake than anything else. The man seemed oddly quiet as he laid her down on the couch. The faithful grey wool army blanket of Digg's that had found a home in the foundry was draped across Felicity’s legs by Oliver and the IT girl sighed tiredly. As she felt the ache of an oncoming yawn in her jaw she wondered why she was so tired when she had just woken up. She vocalized her thoughts and Oliver smiled a stiff, forced smile at her. There was that something in his eye that Felicity could never quite define– anger? Sadness? Whatever it was, it vaguely made her feel like slapping him and kissing him at the same time. Those were both dangerous sentiments, but the latter seemed to be getting more and more appealing recently. Then she realized what it was that bothered her about that look. It was incredibly similar to the look she had seen in the eyes of her suicidal friend she'd had in college. The look of a creature with no hope left, a soul full of anger and guilt. Oliver spoke up, jolting her out her thoughts.

“Get some rest, Felicity.” 

Felicity struggled to overcome the heaviness of her tongue, but she managed to speak with relative strength. She couldn’t quite stop the slur, though. That probably wasn’t a good thing, but she needed to deal with this now. _Oliver_ needed this now. 

“Olivverrr, don’t go there. _Don’t_.”

Said vigilante tilted his head and squinted at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What do you mean?” 

Felicity resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _Men_. Actually it would have been more accurate to say _Oliver_.

“You know very well what I mean, Oliver Queen. Don’t you _what_ me.” 

So, she’s cross when she’s on medication. All that hidden sass she never knew she had.

Oliver moved away for a second to grab the stool from next to the medical table and then came back to set it down next to the couch. Perching on it, he rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands, deliberately turning his head to face Felicity. The same infuriatingly blank expression was on his face, giving Felicity the sudden urge to wring the stupid man’s neck.

“Felicity, this isn’t the time. You need to rest.” 

Her hands twitched in agitation, and then her mouth was open and her vocal box was working, and before she knew it she was yelling.

“Don’t! Don’t you _dare_ pass this off, Oliver! You think you can fool me? I know what you do every time something happens to me, or Digg or Roy. You go over to that salmon ladder, and you work yourself until you pass out from exhaustion. Like it’s somehow your fault that we got hurt. You think that is going to help us? Help y _ou_? You are hurting, Oliver. You have all this guilt just smothering you. It’s drowning you. And you know what? Every time I see you after you’ve almost killed yourself on that _thing_ ,” Felicity paused in her rant to take a breath and to jab an accusing finger at the salmon ladder in the corner. Her voice suddenly dropped to an almost whisper. “it almost kills me, Oliver. It just about kills _me_.” She sighed and then grimaced at the pain in her leg. Oliver’s face still held that unreadable expression, but there was something there now that she couldn’t quite place. Felicity plowed on.

“I don’t know if you love me, or if I love you, but all I know is that it kills me to see you so broken. You are hurting so much Oliver. You’re still on that island, and you need to _leave_. You have this thing, this _obsession_ with carrying the world on your shoulders. You feel like you need to save everybody and if you don’t, it’s on you. Nobody can live that way. It’s too much to bear. You need to let it go and leave that island. Leave Slade and Shado, because there are people here who need you. Digg and Roy, they need you. Oliver, _I_ need you.” 

The last words were barely whispered–she actually hadn’t meant to say them–but her misstep was apparently worth it for the way Oliver was looking at her right now because she had been dreaming about this for _years_. His eyes softened and she felt her heart betray her and melt under the clear blue gaze. She blushed slightly, and then pushing her glasses up to rest on her forehead, she draped her hand across her eyes, mentally berating herself for slipping up and letting loose the words she had been biting back for months. 

“Felicity…” 

“No, I’m sorry, Oliver. I shouldn’t have said that. Just think about it, okay? I mean don’t think about _that_ but think about everything else because that’s more important right now, well actually, maybe not, but _yes_ , it _is_ , so just…” Her voice trailed off as his hand came to rest on top of hers on the wool blanket, stilling her fingers from where she had unconsciously been twisting the rough fabric.

“Felicity, thank you.” He leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead, and Felicity felt the burning touch on her skin for the rest of the night, and she definitely felt it again the next day when she woke up to find a tray with a cup of coffee, two of her favorite donuts and a note that had nothing but a few simple words on it. 

_You are truly remarkable, Felicity Smoak._


	7. Chapter Seven

The song is “You Got Me” by Colbie Caillat

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE ARROW CHARACTERS OR PLACES USED IN THIS STORY

* * *

_You’re stuck on me and my laughing eyes_

_I can’t pretend though I try to hide_

_I like you, I like you_

_I think I felt my heart skip a beat_

_I’m standing here and I can hardly breathe_

_You got me, you got me_

_Oh, I just can’t get enough_

_How much do I need to fill me up?_

_It feels so good it must be love_

_I give up. I give in. I let go. Let’s begin_

_Cause no matter what I do,_

_My heart is filled with you_

 

“What the freakin’ _frazzle_ is this insanity.” 

Felicity huffed and slapped the table in frustration before reaching up to tighten her ponytail with rough hands. Leaning on the table, she supported her weight on her knuckles, enjoying the cool feel of smooth metal beneath her sweaty fingers in contrast to the unearthly heat that currently engulfed the entirety of Starling City. Never in her entire life had she experienced such heat–coming down into the lair was the only way to escape it, but even then the temperature was only different by a degree or two. She and Digg had installed several fans when Oliver had made no move to indicate that he even felt the sun’s burning rays–the man was inhuman–and she now stood in front of one, enjoying her own little paradise of cool air. Sighing tiredly, she reached up to pull her glasses off and rub the bridge of her nose, her skin irritated by the constant trickle of sweat that collected there. Throwing out a forlorn arm, Felicity looked up at the ceiling and let out a dramatic sigh.

“Oh, dear lord. What did I do to deserve this? Maybe I should move to Alaska.” Her computer beeped from across the room and, slipping her glasses back on, Felicity quickly moved over to sit down. Trying her hardest not to bring too much skin into contact with the soft fabric of the chair, she perched uncomfortably on the edge and leaned on the metal desk, relishing the cold that soaked into her forearms. After several minutes of sorting out the download that had finished, she ‘unstuck’ her arms from the now not-so-cool table surface, grimacing at the icky feel of her skin separating from the metal.

“This is absolutely disgusting. This is _mental_.” 

Internally shushing herself when she realized she was talking to an empty room again, Felicity tugged the coral colored tank top she had on out from the top of her jean shorts, and began fanning herself with the loose fabric. That’s when she saw it.

The _darn_ tennis balls.

Ten of them.

“Ugh, _Oliver_.”

It had hardly been a week since she gave him a piece of her mind about leaving a mess whenever he did target practice with moving targets. Because watching him shoot those tennis balls made her feel impressed, entertained, and sometimes even a little turned on. But if she was really honest with herself, she usually felt a1ittle bit terrified. Somehow watching him eye those bright green balls that energetically bounced in the air one second and then deflated with a sickening ‘thwup’ the next, made her want to flinch. Maybe it was because she had heard the sound of arrows entering flesh one too many times with a similar sound, and that had always made her want to throw up. Or maybe it was because she had loved tennis when she was in elementary school. Felicity tried not to think about the first reason too much, and instead concentrated on the fading memory of her tennis teacher’s kind face that she had always liked, despite the fact that he had always had that distracting mole next to his mouth. Just like Oliver. Wait, _what_?

Physically shaking her head as though to clear away her wandering thoughts, Felicity stalked across the lair to the far end where ten green fletched arrows pinned ten identical tennis balls, all buried halfway up their shafts into the wall. The lowest was barely at shoulder height, and reaching up she yanked on it with that impulsive kind of strength that comes with being frustrated. Except that it was proving to be far from useful, since Oliver was obviously much stronger than she was. The arrows somehow managed to penetrate the thick wall and no matter how hard Felicity tugged and heaved on them they stubbornly refused to come out, leaving her breathing heavily and cursing callously. Wiping her slick hands on her shorts she let her shoulders slump, declaring loudly to her unsympathetic computers that Oliver Queen was a dead man. 

“What have I done now?” 

Felicity let out a high-pitched squeak and whirled around to see said vigilante smiling slightly at her. Clad in khaki shorts and a tight fitting t-shirt that left little to the imagination, he was the picture of handsomeness, and the way his eyes sparkled with silent laughter only accentuated his features. Felicity cleared her throat self-consciously, averting her eyes to look at the monitors behind Oliver. For a fleeting second her mind went blank, but then her frustration came rushing back and she huffed pointedly. Gesturing to the arrows imbedded in the wall she gave Oliver a piercing look. 

“Mr. Queen, s _ir_.” 

Realization lit up his eyes, and then his smile deepened into something more of a smirk. In that smooth, catlike gait of his, he walked up to her and leaned over her shoulder, playfully close as he gripped one arrow and pulled it out of the wall with ease. She could feel his breath puff past her ears, and heat flushed up her neck and face–Felicity inwardly groaned: she had nail polish the color she was currently turning. How was it she found herself like this again? For the third time. This _week_. Because of the _same man_. She really needed to get her hormones under control. Slowly and carefully Oliver maneuvered around the IT girl as he removed each arrow. She cleared her throat once more and then wiped her palms on her shorts again. He tugged out the last of the arrows and then with that same infuriating smirk that secretly turned her on, he returned the shafts to their respective places in the glass case across the room. He turned to look at her, and she mused to herself that he must be having a good day because he doesn’t usually look this mischievous. The heat of the room seemed to intensify as their eyes met and for a heartbeat the world seemed to stop moving around them. The still moment ended almost before it started and Oliver moved towards the training mats and shucked off his shirt, heading for the salmon ladder. Felicity’s eyes trailed over his bare back, lingering on the dragon tattoo on his left shoulder before snapping to her computers. She squeezed her eyes shut once and then opened them extra wide, shaking her head minutely at her own thoughts that always seemed to be escaping her. 

_Easy there, Smoak. No lingering glances._

The silence stretched out in the quiet foundry, broken only by the whir of the fans and the clanking of Oliver on the salmon ladder. The distraction caused by the latter finally drew Felicity’s eyes up past the top of her computers and to the training area. Absently watching him do the ladder she found herself fanning her face with a nearby file, thoughts drifting dangerously. Images of Oliver doing the salmon ladder from previous times flitted across her mind, and she almost blurted out her first thought, the words catching in her throat as if hesitant to show themselves. 

_He’s really hot._

Felicity started, and then fanned herself with renewed vigor. This is why she came in late for work on Wednesdays. Watching Oliver on the salmon ladder was admittedly quite pleasant, but it definitely wasn’t healthy– especially if he was her boss.

“Felicity?” 

She jumped at the close proximity of his voice, and whipped her head up to meet his gaze. She briefly flicked her eyes down to his bare chest, then brought them back up. If only she could go around topless like Oliver, life would be so much better. She glanced at said man, and narrowed her eyes at his quirked lips and dancing eyes until it finally caught up to her. 

“I said that last thought out loud, didn’t I.” 

The seldom used laughter lines around his eyes deepened, and she blushed that unearthly shade of red again. And _darn you_ _Oliver_ quit looking at me like that. Because it was really _not_ helping the heat that blossomed in her chest. The kind of heat that had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the sun, and _everything_ to do with the heart.


End file.
